the worst part is burning
by monogalya
Summary: Sometimes Napoleon hated how aware of everything he was, how his eyes noticed every detail they could. It annoyed him that he was such a skilled spy. gallya fic from napoleon's pov


**rewatched this movie and here i am, writing a fic on a whim.**

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As much as Gaby acts like she doesn't care, Napoleon knew that she did, or at least, he could tell when she did and when she could not care less. The difference mattered. Nonetheless, he had to admit, she was excellent at pretending. After all, she had fooled him and Peril once before, a long time ago.

Playing a role, suave acting, casual posing. They were all handy skills in the business, but while Gaby was a convincing actress, Peril had trouble controlling his emotions at times. Opposites attract, Napoleon thought at first.

But it wasn't that simple. The realization came to Napoleon much later that Illya needed Gaby.

Mission after mission, whenever Gaby was in imminent danger, Peril was there to bury a bullet in the attacker's head, hurl them into the ocean, crush their skull; whatever method he chose, it was never a pretty sight. Peril, with his stature and build and sheer brutal strength, didn't often need Gaby to charge at someone and send them flying out the window. Peril had his explosive moments—the trio knew that well—and whenever they happened Gaby was there to ground him with her small hands wrapped around his wrists, keeping Peril's clenched fists from swinging, or with her arms locked around his chest and shoulders, not letting go until he went still and frozen and breathing was easier for all of them.

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Sometimes Napoleon hated how aware of everything he was, how his eyes noticed every detail they could. It annoyed him that he was such a skilled spy. It was useful and it made him the best of the best, but sometimes he learned too much from what his eyes picked up and what his brain put together. He took pride in being able to make shocking discoveries and pass it off with laid-back nonchalance, but sometimes putting up that facade was difficult because it hurt. The new information hurt. Hiding what he knew hurt as well.

It hurt when Napoleon and Gaby were posing as a couple for an assignment at yet another grand event and while they waltzed she broke eye contact with him for just a fraction of a second. Napoleon immediately knew who her eyes were searching for and when she smiled to herself later on, Napoleon knew that Peril gave in at some point and returned Gaby's look from wherever he was.

Napoleon could not believe the smitten duo, their faces glowing with smiles because they did something as simple as making eye contact. No, they weren't actually glowing. They were too cautious to slip up like that. To everyone else in the massive room, nothing had changed, but Napoleon saw the shift, the glint in Gaby's eyes, and the upwards turn of her lips, barely noticeable. All because Peril indulged her with a short-lived smile.

Napoleon caught glimpses of them when they weren't even officially on missions. Sometimes it wasn't even his fault for looking around with curiosity and caution in his mind. Sometimes he purposely ignored them, but somehow his attention always returned to the two. Like when he was chatting up the receptionist because he desperately needed the distraction, and right when he thought he had her, her eyes shifted to look at something other than him, and of course, that something had to be Gaby and Peril.

Gaby was standing on a table in the lobby, glaring down at Peril as she spoke. They appeared to be in an argument. The receptionist didn't care anyways and promptly told Gaby to please step off the table and keep her feet on the ground. Mentally, to himself, Napoleon begged Gaby and Peril to please stop torturing him by being so couple-like in front of him. He could never say it to their faces. They were too happy.

Napoleon didn't have what they had. Napoleon didn't have that person, someone to always think about, someone to always hold, someone to always keep close by, and if they're not around, someone to always reach for, someone to long for.

Having this person, if they even existed, would be a luxury and a liability in his world. With all the shooting, the spying, the chases and the hunts, this world was not for everyone, but it was his, it was where he thrived. Gaby and Peril thrived as well in the spying realm, and they're aware that what they had was a luxury and a liability, yet they still kept it. They were lucky and it was so unfair.

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Of course, Napoleon couldn't blame the two for acting the way they did. Apparently they were at a point where they need not control their emotions in front of each other. Or in front of him. God, they were practically flaunting in front of him, showing off, rubbing it in his face.

There was one night when they were wrestling in an apartment in Oslo, just for fun. Gaby had Peril in a chokehold, and they're at a standstill in the moment. Peril struggled against Gaby's arms, but he did it half-heartedly. Napoleon could tell that from where he was sitting, the other end of the apartment. What he couldn't tell was what Gaby said next. Gaby leaned over and mumbled something for only Illya to hear. Despite the chokehold, Peril immediately laughed and he reached for Gaby's hand to hold, the chokehold was still a chokehold but it looked more like a gentle cradle as they laced their fingers together and smiled and locked eyes and drew closer and just sort of melted while Napoleon watched from a distance, burning.

He noticed every little detail and it hurt.

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 **hope you enjoyed. same username on tumblr.**


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